Hit and Run
by Strawberrywaltz
Summary: After a Hot Call gone wrong and a debriefing from hell Sam bikes home only to end up in the clutches of a killer. Team One scrambles to locate Sam as he struggles to survive not only his physical injuries but the torture in his mind. Sam Whump/Team fic Chapter Four Edited Version Up!
1. Chapter 1

_Okay guys, this is my first Flashpoint fan-fiction so hopefully you all will enjoy it. I recently got obsessed with the show and I haven't even finished watching all the seasons. (I'm still on season two…Lou just died, it was very sad)_

_This takes place in season two, but before Lou dies and after Donna leaves._

_Sam's my favorite character (I've always been a sucker for the military types with dark and twisted pasts ^^ Cuz I'm weird that way.)_

_I am not Canadian, but my best friend is._

_I own not this television series or…any television series for that matter so no profit goes to me for writing this. It's all just for fun._

_This story is nearly finished, I was just getting a bit impatient and decided that I wanted to share it with the world. As of now it's at 7,800 words and growing. I plan to update once a week. If I don't feel free to bug me about it ^^_

_**Warnings**: Violence, blood, slight gore and disturbing images in later chapters_

_Also I'll say now that I am a PHOTOGRAPHER, not an English major. So grammatical mistakes will happen and I apologize for that in advanced. Still I strive to make your reading experience as pleasant as possible so if there are any Beta's out there interested in helping me out, let me know. ^^ _

_Please enjoy!_

_- Strawberry_

* * *

Chapter One

"Sam you left yourself out in the open, if the guy had been a better shot you'd be dead right now." Sergeant Greg Parker growled at the younger man from across the briefing table. The doors were locked and the team – minus Ed were in the middle of a heated debriefing after a hot call gone wrong.

Frustration was growing as Sam stared at the file in front of him. He wished the debriefing could have waited until Ed had returned, but the home front had called the older man away – leaving Sam to take the full force of the rest of the team.

"We were talking the target down, Ed motioned me closer." Sam's voice was low, as calm as could be maintained under the circumstances. "I was just following orders."

Jules was the hardest to look at, her eyes burning with passion in the form of rage building inside her small body. "The situation shouldn't have escalated that far. You had the shot when Sarg called 'Scorpio' and you didn't take it!" Everything about her posture and voice pointed an accusing finger at Braddock – she was upset, rightfully so after what had happened.

Sam shook his head, but he was getting tired of defending himself and Ed's actions in the field. The others hadn't been there. They didn't understand and it seemed to Sam as if they didn't want to either. "I had the shot before, but I lost it in that moment. The risk of hitting the hostage was too high, Ed was trying to get a better vantage but it was already too late. The hostage was down and the suspect was fleeing – we went to intercept him."

Sam had stopped his explanation and glanced around the room for an understanding face – there was no point in continuing to try and defend his actions when everyone in the room was showing signs of such aggression and frustration. It had just been a bad case – simple as that. Sam didn't have to convince them of his actions now – he only needed to convince his boss. Perhaps then Greg would call the briefing to a close and they could all go home and reflect – reflect without aiming all their anger and frustration at him.

Continuing Sam focused his eyes forward towards the Sergeant. "We cut him off and Ed motioned me around to box him in. He had nowhere to go and Ed was getting through to him. The gun was almost down." Sam shook his head and dropped his eyes back down to the table top, faltering slightly before admitting to his one and only mistake. "I was moving in slow, but my boot knocked against a loose rock. The sound must have spooked the gunman and…he turned and fired at me. Ed took the kill shot." Sam finally looked around the room once again, "it was my fault okay? It was my fault."

Focusing his attention back to the folder Sam quickly shut the file and waited to be crucified. Silence had filled the room and the absence of sound was threatening to the ex military man. Not risking a look at the others on his team he waited as patiently as possible for more condemnation.

From across the briefing room table he heard Greg take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Sam, Gordon Walker was a desperate man looking for a way out. He had just shot his hostage and knew there was no way out for him. He was looking at a long jail sentence and possibly life in prison for what he had done today."

"Suicide by cop." Jules summed up, her voice still hard but not as jagged as before.

Without looking up Sam couldn't tell if they were just humoring him or they were sincerely trying to justify what had happened – Sam did noticed that they were all a bit shocked when he had turned on himself. At first he had tried to defend his actions – but it was stupid to do so. Sam had already been beating himself up mentally before the briefing had started. Had he gotten into a better position to start with he wouldn't have lost the solution in the first place. If he had been paying attention the gunman wouldn't have known he was closing in…it had all gotten so screwed up.

Every mistake he had made were things the greenest of rookie's would make – Sam felt the failure like a knife in the throat.

Another exhale from across the table and the scrapping of a chair against the floor signaled the end of the briefing before Greg confirmed it vocally. "It's been a tough day, team. Let's go home and rest – tomorrow we'll regroup and start fresh."

More scraping told Sam that the rest of the team were following the request and leaving the briefing room – still the weary soldier remained stationed, eyes focused blankly on the file in front of him on the table.

A few moments after the shuffling and footsteps had faded Sam thought he might be alone, but when his eyes finally took in the room the Sarg was still standing across from him looking concerned. Then again it was his job to be concerned about his people. "It was a rough day." Greg repeated with strained sincerity. "Try not to over think things too much. Get some sleep – tomorrow we go back to saving lives."

Though the last comment was meant to reassure, or inspire, or something – but to Sam it felt more like the man was twisting the knife in his gut. Today Sam had failed to save two lives – it was his actions that ended the call in disaster.

With a sharp nod Sam pushed away from the table and blindly headed towards the locker room. When he arrived in the room the other guys had already gone into the showers. Pausing for a moment Sam quickly decided to skip the shower and just head home. By the time he got to his apartment with his bike he'd want to shower again anyway. No point of wasting his energy and time – or risk more confrontation with his team.

Switching from his SRU uniform to his civilian clothes took more time then typical. His shoulder was still sore from where one of the bullets had hit his vest. Ed had been aware of the hit but Sam had brushed it off – it hadn't been that bad. A few bruises were nothing life threatening and Ed was really the only one who knew he'd actually been hit – well, as far as Sam knew. Normally the team would go all 'mother hen' on anyone who got hit no matter how minor the injury was.

Kind of felt like crap that no one had noticed even though if they had it would be a pain and the ass dealing with all the attention. Such odd and conflicting emotions, Sam thought with a roll of his eyes.

Unimpressed with his mind's focus of thought Sam shut his locker and headed out for the night. The cool temperature and the moonless sky were welcoming. Once outside Sam stopped and inhaled the fresh air deep into his lungs. The sky above him was clouded with gray and the moon was hidden somewhere beyond the dark blanket. The lights of the city seemed dim tonight and the moisture in the air was thick and waiting for the impending downpour of rain.

It felt good to be outside. He wouldn't admit that he was claustrophobic but after being at war Sam had always preferred to be outside where he could see everything around him. Small spaces with four walls and a roof were a trap – it was easier to see what was coming when it was in front of you in plain sight. It was easier to survive when you had room to move.

Perhaps it was another reason why Sam had sold his car for the bike. His car had felt like a coffin – just another reminder of war and old fears of driving over another roadside bomb. It was good to slow down, like he had told Jules, especially in their line of work when everything happened so fast. It was also a good way for a soldier to reinitiate themselves into a world away from the front lines.

His first week back had been the worst – checking rooftops for snipers, jumping at any loud bang that could be a gunshot or explosion. It was maddening looking for danger in a place that was supposed to be home – supposed to be safe. Working for the SRU made things better in some ways. With work he was able to go out and take on the 'bad guys' and protect the city.

In other ways work was making him complacent – the constant fear of the enemy seeking him out was fading. Sam no longer ducked at a car back firing or checked every single person on the sidewalk for any sign of weapons or hostility. The only thing that still made him pause was thunderstorms, which looked and sounded way too much like bombs.

Over all though Sam felt safe, which was both good and bad.

When he had first started working with the SRU team Sam would never have allowed the events of today happen. Most noticeably he would have been aware of where his feet were and what was around them. That stone would not have been knocked into. Stealth was something that kept a soldier alive in war. Especially a sniper.

Shaking his head, Sam unlocked the chain on his bike and sat heavily on the seat. The sky opened up in that moment – drips and drops of rain splattering on Sam and the dark world around him. At least it was just rain tonight. With little acknowledgement to the weather Sam pushed off and headed towards home. It had been an exhausting day and his mind was in overdrive trying to picture what he could have done to have a better outcome.

_"I have the solution," Sam told the team over the line but glanced at Ed next to him. "I have it, but I could lose it if he moves Ed."_

_"Stay there, I'll try and get a better vantage. If he escalates we need at least one solution." Ed shook his head and moved away. That, of course, was when everything went to hell._

_"Scorpio!" Greg called over the line suddenly and in that moment Sam lost the shot._

_"No solution, no solution." Sam called over the line and a shot was fired. Breath hitching slightly Sam met Ed's gaze before glancing down at the older man's gun. No smoke, the shot had come from the suspect. The hostage was down and all at once they were running._

_"Moving to intercept the subject." Ed was saying over the line, Sam had a dull suspicion that more words had been spoken. Words he had missed when his mind was still processing what had happened._

Peddling down the dimly lit street Sam closed his eyes, pushing the pictures and memories away. There was nothing he could have done differently, at least not now. It was like the Sarg had said, what had been done was done. There were no take backs in real life. No do overs.

Opening his eyes again Sam found himself shivering. The rain was cold and he was thoroughly soaked by this point. With a growling sigh Sam shook his head a bit, maybe avoiding the team hadn't been the best idea. Wordy would have offered him a ride home had Sam stuck around. Then again, maybe he wouldn't have tonight.

No one on the team liked to take the lethal solution and losing hostages hit everyone hard. It wasn't necessarily that they were mad at Sam, but it was clear that he had been the weakest link during the mission. No, not a mission, during the call.

Blinking the rain from his eyes Sam raised his hand up to rub them in the same moment that the headlights spilled over his body like a spotlight. The sound of rushing metal took the soldier by surprise – enough to make him swerve but not enough to help him miss being hit completely.

The next thing Sam was aware of was being on the ground and rain smacking him on his face. A car door opened up and someone was calling out to him. Numb – the pain hadn't registered yet as he lay there on the sidewalk on his back. Sam was aware that the pain would come but for the moment he couldn't help but wonder about the condition of his bike. Slowly he let his head fall to the side, hoping to get a glimpse of it but a pair of black dress shoes blocked his view.

"Young man like you should have a car." A voice, probably the owner of the vehicle was saying. Blinking Sam moved his head upwards again to get a look at the speaker only to be backhanded for his troubles. Okay, so this was no the typical attitude of a citizen driver hitting a pedestrian in a rainstorm. Though Sam had never personally been in this type of situation he always had imagined things going a little differently. For instance the driver frantically calling for an ambulance – not the driver beating the injured victim in the face.

The impact to his face seemed to snap Sam out of the shock and awaken the nerves throughout his battered body. Groaning he tried to breathe through the pain radiating sharply from his right side where the impact had initiated. His lower ribs and hip were the center of the torture Sam was feeling.

The man was talking again, but the buzzing noise of sound was outside of Sam's level of understanding. Right now all Sam knew was that he was in pain and a whole hell of a lot of trouble. This was no ordinary accident. This man wasn't drunk or surprised. The whole situation was bad and had all the probability of getting worse.

"Still awake, hmm?" Sam's eyes snapped forward again, finally catching the outline of the man's shadowed face. "Must have a high tolerance for pain." Leaning forward the man pressed his hand against Sam's right side. "But I need you to sleep now," the man's low voice echoed through the sudden onslaught of pain.

The scream that tore through Sam's throat was surprising even to the young soldier and in the haze of fiery agony Sam found himself grateful for the cold closing darkness.

* * *

"Anyone see Sam leave?" Wordy asked coming back into the locker room. He was going to offer the younger man a ride home before it started raining but had been unable to locate him in the building after he'd finished showering.

Spike and Lewis glanced over at him and shook their head. The anger from before had faded and Wordy could see the slight guilt in Spike's eyes as he shook his head. "Haven't seen him since the debriefing." There was a slight pause before the Italian continued, "think he's okay?"

Wordy shook his head, "I think he's beating himself up – it's not like we helped much."

The other two men nodded. "We'll just have to make it up to him tomorrow." Wordy shrugged. "Make sure he knows that he still belongs." He smirked a bit, trying to ease the tension in the room with a light hearted joke, "you guys know how sensitive he can be."

That got a few smiles out of his companions. "See you guys tomorrow." One final wave and he was off. Shelley was cooking dinner and he didn't want to be late if he could help it. When he got down to the parking lot Wordy did glance towards the empty bike rack one last time. It was pouring down rain as Wordy ran to his van and he could only hope Sam got home before it started.

* * *

_Okay that's all for now folks! Hope I've gotten your attention. ^^_

_Reviews and Reviewers are loved._


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys! So I'm super excited to present the next chapter!_

_Big thanks to PSU93Girl who offered to be my Beta ^^ THANK YOU SO MUCH!_

_(any mistakes that remain are very much my fault ^^)_

_Another big thanks to all those who reviewed! Flash Point readers are very kind and welcoming! I appreciate you all!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Two

The next day started out as usual with the team filing in at their typical paces. Everyone except Sam, and Team One took notice.

"Think he's sulking?" Spike asked as he joined Wordy and Lewis in the gym.

The other guys shrugged as they continued their workouts.

"He isn't here." Lewis commented lightly.

Wordy shook his head in disagreement. "Sam isn't the stay-at-home-and-sulk kind of guy. He's the do-everything-silently-and-correctly-while-glaring-and-brooding type. He must have some reason for not being on time."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Spike asked curiously, chuckling at Wordy's comment on Sam being the silent brooding type.

Wordy shrugged, trying to hide the guilt he was still feeling about the previous night. "If he got caught in that rainstorm last night he might not be feeling like a million bucks this morning."

"Sam's sick?" Jules asked as she entered the room, concern evident in the pitch of her voice. Out of everyone on the team she was probably the harshest voice in the briefing room the previous night.

"We don't know – he hasn't shown up yet and he biked home in the rain last night." Wordy answered with a shrug, lifting weights casually.

Spike laughed lightly again as he lay down to start bench pressing. "Aw, he might have made it home if he pedaled fast enough."

Lewis smiled at his best friend and returned his attention to spotting the man in case the weight was too much for Spike to handle. "I bet he's wishing he didn't sell his car right about now."

Ed walked into the weight room at the tail end of the conversation, giving a slightly humored look to the rest of the team. "A little more workout and a little less picking on the guy not here to defend himself," he announced casually, picking up the sign in sheet and studying it carefully. "Did anyone check Sam's shoulder last night?"

Met with silence Ed glanced up and around the room at the confused faces.

"Shoulder?" Jules ventured, slowly setting down the weights she had been working with.

The guys seemed just as surprised, each had paused their own workout while they waited for more information.

"Sam was hit in the vest by one of the bullets fired at him – he said he was fine but he had to have been hurting." Ed's eyes narrowed when a clueless look was passed around the room – no one knew what he was talking about. "He didn't say anything? How did the briefing go?"

The others looked guilty and it took a minute for Spike to speak up. "Remember the Hartford case? About that good." The case mentioned was just another bad case that left the team tired, pissed off and looking for someone to blame. Not one of the SRU's shining moments as a team and family. Of course in that incident everyone was pointing fingers at everybody else, not just one person.

It was Ed's turn to look confused and his eyes narrowed. "I don't understand how that could have happened. It was a bad ending, sure, but there was nothing that could have been done differently."

Though Jules had calmed down since the briefing her views on what happened hadn't changed or gone away. "If Sam had taken out the subject when the boss said 'Scorpio' the hostage – "

Her argument from before was quickly cut off now by a glaring Ed. "Sam was in position for seconds. He had the solution but knew it was risky, if they moved back just slightly he'd lose the shot. I was moving to get a better vantage when they shifted back and Parker called 'Scorpio' – it was out of our hands. We didn't have enough time and when we saw Walker running we moved to intercept and box him in."

The others fell silent once again with looks of guilt and self-reflection mixing within their expressions.

"Sam never said it quite like that." Jules offered softly. Except he had, but one voice against an angry mob didn't carry very far.

"Did we give him a chance?" Spike sighed from across the room, sitting up on the bench and rubbing his neck.

Ed shook his head. "It sounds like we should redo that briefing."

"That's going to have to wait." Greg announced walking into the room. The group's attention quickly turned towards the Sergeant. The tension in the room thickening at the older man's pale face – something had happened.

"What happened, Boss?" Jules asked, trying not to jump to the conclusion fluttering in her gut. Something bad had happened and the cold realization sent shivers down her spine.

"Got a call a few minutes ago from the homicide division. A storeowner called in a report about a totaled bike outside their shop. They ran the serial numbers and traced it back to Sam." There was a pause as their boss glanced around the room at the worried faces of his placebo family.

"Is Sam in the hospital?" Wordy jumped in with the question, feeling increasingly guilty. He knew it was going to rain – he should have offered Sam the ride after the briefing, before Sam could take off and do his 'lone wolf' bullshit.

"No." Greg answered with a quick shake of his head, his expression not giving any of the team hope. "They are reviewing the security cameras in the area to figure out exactly what happened, but right now they have a theory. The homicide division has been tracking a killer with a certain MO. From what they told me he strikes at night on streets that are dark with little to no traffic. He hits the intended victim with a vehicle to render them unconscious, throws them in the backseat, and drives away. The car is found the next day, abandoned in an empty lot and burned. At two of the scenes the victim's personal effects had been recovered within the car, burnt but identifiable. The victims themselves are typically found in abandoned buildings, places out of the way where people are less likely to stumble across them. They're chained to the wall or ground with nothing around them. So far they haven't found anyone alive."

A heavy silence settled upon the weight room, each member of the team left to their own thoughts and worry.

It's Wordy this time who breaks the silence, asking the question on everybody's mind. "Cause of death?"

Swallowing thickly Greg nods before answering, eyes cast down to the floor. "Reports say that there is no evidence that the killer sticks around to watch the show – he just leaves the victims in these places alone. Some died from injuries sustained from the initial accident, others exposure, some starved to death. It all depends on how much time it takes for someone to stumble across the bodies. Homicide has dubbed him the Hit-and-Run Killer."

The silence that followed the dire information didn't last long. Ed's mind was racing as he let the information sink in. "Have they found any sort of pattern? What's the typical radius from where the initial kidnapping takes place to where the bodies are found?" Ed, a man of tactic and action speaks up. The others stood immediately – ready and willing to receive orders to search for their lost brother.

A flicker of a smile rises to Greg's lips in appreciation of his team's readiness to help one another. However, the graveness of the situation sets the frown on the Sergeant's face as he glanced at his close friend. "They're sending over a copy of everything they have on this guy. At this point they want this serial killer found and are welcoming all the help they can get. I'll let you know when we have something to look over."

The team suddenly seemed panicked. "But Sarge, we can't just sit around and do nothing." Spike spoke first though Jules and Wordy both started to say something similar before the Italian's voice took over.

Greg held up his hands in a gesture of calm. "And we will do something, we will, but right now we've got a missing guy and no guide on where to start looking for him. I can't send you out there on a wild goose chase. For now we wait until we've got a solid lead or at the very least an idea of where to begin our search."

After everyone in the room seemed to accept his last statement Greg moved on to give out orders. "Spike I'm going to need you to review the video footage Homicide is sending over. I'm gonna warn you now that if they find video feed from last night Sam's incident will be among them."

Swallowing thickly Spike nodded. "Got it Boss."

Greg turned his gaze to Ed next. "We're going to look for some sort of pattern in all this. If we can find a pattern we can narrow down the search for Sam big time."

Still listening to every word of the conversation Wordy stepped forward, "Wouldn't Homicide have a pattern by now? How many victims has this guy gotten already?"

"They told me they've recovered four bodies, but there are another two missing that fit the MO and have never been recovered. Over the last week the guy seems to have picked up his game. They said they thought the suspect only picked up one victim a month, but a girl was taken a week before Sam. Considering Sam's case they've started thinking that there may be more victims they don't know about. Bodies they just haven't found yet."

More silence fills the room. "Let's get ready for anything; I'm going to put us off on-call duty for now while we look for Sam. Anyone have a problem with that?" There was some slight shaking of heads but for the most part Greg could see that the team members were lost in their own minds. "Okay, let's bring Sam home."

* * *

The first thing Sam was aware of was the pain. Everything hurt. Breathing hurt. Living hurt. It consumed his mind even as he lay there with his eyes closed – unmoving. When the pain became tolerable enough to open his mind to his other senses Sam started to listen in on the world around him. Silence met his ears. No, not silence – faintly in the distance he could hear the soft sound of something wet dripping on stone.

It had been raining, was it still raining?

Slowly, carefully the young soldier opened his eyes. It was dark, but there was light coming from somewhere above and to the right of his body, streams of light shining down giving him the ability to see the dim dungeon he had been left in.

It was cold – he was cold. Clothes were still damp from the rain, but the room he was in was mostly dry – just dark and cold. The shivering induced by that damp cold caused the pain to increase throughout Sam's battered body.

The memory of what happened was surprisingly clear in Sam's mind even after everything that happened. Someone had purposely struck him with a car – that same person was probably the one who had left him here in this place. Why? Sam didn't know why and at the moment he didn't really care.

Exhaustion coaxed him into closing his eyes once more, but it was the fear of the unknown that kept the safety of unconsciousness at bay. If Sam was going to survive this he needed to get out of wherever he was and get help, or at least assess his injuries and treat what he could.

Without risking too much movement Sam mentally did a check of what hurt the most – lower ribs and hip on his right side and his left knee probably more from the impact of the sidewalk than from getting hit by the vehicle.

Swallowing back a gasp of pain Sam lifted his left arm and snaked it over to his right side to check his ribs and make sure everything was still whole. Breathing in short pants he finally dropped his hand away and focused once more on controlling his straining lungs. Lucky for Sam he had determined his ribs were cracked or badly bruised, not broken. At least nothing had shifted too noticeably.

Groaning Sam moved to sit himself up, crying out at the symphony of pain that greeted him with such simple movements. Eventually Sam finally had his body propped up against the closest stone and dirt wall in the dim space around him.

Breathing heavily his eyes opened again to get a better look at his leg. While Sam had been moving he had felt a tug on his left ankle and heard the scraping of metal. Both sensations had been worrisome but the task of moving had taken Sam's full attention at the time. Now his initial suspicions were confirmed – clasped around his left ankle was an iron manacle attached to a thick chain that was bolted into the ground not too far from where Sam now sat.

From what he could see around him Sam knew that the building he was in was an old one. The roof above him was wood, sun streaming through frightening gaps where age had rotted the floor away. Sam was in the basement of whatever the building was, or used to be – the concrete floor was cold and worn down with age. The holes and cracks in the foundation were disconcerting to say the least.

"Not good." Sam muttered to himself, his hollow voice sounding odd breaking the silence.

That quiet was another bad sign, it meant wherever he was others weren't. The lack of people wandering around lowered his chances of being found to a dangerous level. Looking down at the iron cuff around his ankle Sam let his eyes travel up his leg towards his knee – it was swollen under his ripped jeans but after some careful probing with his hands Sam was satisfied that it wasn't broken. Sam quickly wrote the injury off as badly bruised and perhaps a fractured kneecap. Painful yes, but it was not the end of the world.

Lifting up his shirt Sam tried to eye the damage to his lower right side. The deep black and purple bruising made him nervous. If he were bleeding internally it could get pretty bad for him pretty quickly. Carefully placing a shaky hand against his darkened and clammy skin Sam was relieved to feel no abnormal warmth – a strong indication that he wasn't bleeding internally at the moment. He'd keep an eye on the bruising to be sure but for now he was alive and had a chance to stay that way.

Blood was smeared on his clothes and skin, but after a quick check Sam was happy to report that the contusions he'd suffered were all superficial injuries. Scrapes and cuts from the sidewalk decorated his left forearm and shoulder, and his left cheek and both his knees were bloody. Each of the cuts had stopped bleeding sometime when he was unconscious so Sam was pretty sure nothing was life threatening.

At least not yet – living in the desert Sam had seen the tiniest cuts take down men twice his size if not treated properly. Infections were bad news.

Still breathing hard Sam let his head fall back against the cool wall and closed his eyes. This was not a good situation and he had no idea what was going on or why he was left in this place, but Sam did know one thing – his team, his family would find him. All Sam needed to do was survive until that moment.

* * *

_Thanks again for reading!_

_More coming next week! (Unless I randomly decide to update sooner…tis been known to happen from time to time ^^)_

_Click the big blue button if you enjoyed what you read ^^ I love to hear from my readers!_

_- Berry_


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys! Here's the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy it!_

_Special thanks to my beta PSU93Girl ^^ You are amazing!_

_Oh, and this is where the story starts getting kind of dark and twisty – just a fair warning ^^_

* * *

Chapter Three

It was a rough twenty-four hours that ended with few leads to go on.

By nightfall all of Team One had watched the three videos sent over by Homicide that showed Sam's accident – one was a traffic camera viewpoint, another stationed across the street on an ATM, and the final an outside security camera above the shop where Sam's bike had been found. The pictures had been fuzzy due to the dark of night and the heavy rainfall. The original storeowners' security camera had been the best view and even that one was too distorted to make an ID or even gain a clear description of the driver.

Still they had all seen Sam go down and the driver hitting their friend in the face. "He didn't lose consciousness right away." Spike sounded hopeful. "Maybe he's okay. Well not okay, okay – but okay enough somewhere and waiting for us to find him." The optimistic voice was appreciated throughout the group, but not everyone dared to dream luck was on Sam's side.

"The faster we find him the better," Ed had broken the silence that lingered around them, pulling away from the viewing screen and going back to searching for a pattern.

The car that had hit Sam, a stolen white SUV, was recovered by midday – burned. Sam's dog tags and SRU badge had been recovered from the wreckage and were delivered to the SRU headquarters after they had been processed.

The location of the dumped vehicle relative to where Sam's initial kidnapping took place was unhelpful to Ed in the end. It appeared as if the serial killer picked the dumping spots at random.

However, Ed was still puzzled over the locations where the victims had been found. One girl had been found in a closed-off section of the sewer system, the second victim's body had been found in an old bunker in the woods just outside Toronto, the third victim had been found in an abandoned water purification site, and the last victim had been recovered in the basement of an abandoned office building in the slums of the city.

Ed kept cross-referencing those abandoned buildings with the recovered cars but nothing seemed to be adding up.

The only thing these places really had in common was that they were abandoned and rarely, if ever, were visited by people. That information gave them nothing to go on – if they were to check every building written off by society they'd be searching for Sam for months if not longer. Sam didn't have that long – Ed was well aware that every passing minute was a countdown on Sam's survival.

Ed had been surprised by how the killer seemed to only use two streets to pick up his victims. Two of the victims had been nabbed on the same street as Sam and the others on another street not far away.

"I assume he patrols there frequently," Ed told Parker just as the first bolt of lightning streaked across the darkened sky.

Greg nodded, looking over the sprawled out maps and notes that covered the briefing room table. The crime scene photographs of the dead haunted him – Greg couldn't help but imagine Sam's face being added to the group. "So you think he could be taken down in the right setting – with the right motivation?"

"I'm thinking Sam's running out of time and this serial killer knows exactly where Sam is. If we bring this guy in we can get him to talk." Ed emphasized his point by smacking a still of the shadowed figure that had taken Sam.

Parker nodded slowly, "I agree. Let's plan this carefully, though. I don't want to lose any more people to this guy."

Elsewhere in headquarters Spike was hunting down Jules who had disappeared not long after Sam's things had been brought to them. He found her up on the roof watching the storm build over the city.

Thunder boomed in the distance and the heat lightning lit up the sky, flashing off the dog tags dangling in Jules's hand.

"Hey," Spike announced his presence, but he knew the sniper probably was already aware the tech specialist was there. Moving forward the Italian leaned against the railing next to his friend. "How are you doing?"

Jules shook her head a bit, not taking her eyes away from the distant storm. "He hates thunderstorms." She ignored his question, looking at Spike briefly before turning back to the skyline. "Always gets this look in his eyes, like he's somewhere else."

"Looks and feels like bombs." Spike nodded knowingly. "I remember this one night Wordy was driving us home after a few drinks at the bar. We stopped at my house and I opened the side door just as this bright flash of lighting and loud boom of thunder filled the air. Sam jumped so bad it shook the entire van. He yelled at us to 'get down' and grabbed onto the sides of the van like it was going to flip over. It took us a few minutes to get him to respond again – I think he was back in the desert, ya know?" The Italian shook his head with a sad smile. "Freaked me right out, Sam's normally a rock – to see him scared like that, it wasn't right."

"It's not right that he's by himself out there," Jules whispered. "He has to face this storm alone, hurt – maybe dying."

"Hey, Sam's strong. He'll get through this. Soldiers are trained to survive even when they're hurt and alone – so don't give up on Sam yet. We're going to find him and bring him home." Spike snapped a little harsher then he had intended.

Jules looked up at Spike and nodded slowly. "You're right, Spike. Sam is strong."

Offering Jules a weak smile Spike pushed back from the railing. "Let's get back inside, maybe Ed has something now."

* * *

The first official day Sam spent most of his time battling exhaustion and trying to pick the lock to the cuff around his ankle. With nothing small enough around him the soldier didn't get far with that endeavor. Without external help or something to cut it off the manacle wasn't going anywhere – Sam was stuck.

His situation had gone from bad to worse with startling swiftness. It all started with tightness in Sam's chest and a tickle in the back of his throat and escalated into long, exhausting coughing spells. His time exposed to the chilled rain the night of his initial…whatever it was that had happened had brought on what Sam feared to be the beginning stages of pneumonia.

By the time the storm started to build and the sun disappeared Sam's mind was ravaged by a low but increasing fever and in his lucid moments Sam knew how screwed he was.

The flashbacks were probably a product of the situation Sam found himself in and ignited by the intensity of the thunderstorm. As it turned out he didn't need a bad guy physically there torturing him – Sam was capable of causing his own agony.

The fever, low at the time, had knocked Sam's mind off balance enough to lose sense of where he was. In his mind Sam found himself in a foxhole – which had basically been a basement of a house that had been decimated – riding out a night of bombings with his Unit. Matt was there, alive and frightened right there next to Sam. None of them thought they were going to make it through the night.

Sam was huddled near the stairs with two other guys, none of them could even think about sleeping as the bombs continued to fall above them. One well-placed hit and they were done. Gone. Just like that.

They were close enough to the only opening to see the flashes of light from the explosions and smell the smoke and dust, but far enough away that they wouldn't be able to see the bomb that killed them all – if it hit.

Matt and Leo were Sam's closest friends in the unit. They were all new to the war zone, green. The older men seemed used to this type of situation – some were even brave enough to sleep. Older, maybe two years over Sam's age, but they carried themselves as if they had lived ten years longer. They had seen so much – things that Sam and his buddies were only beginning to see.

"I was getting married." Leo announced suddenly, his sad whisper nearly drowned out by the thunderous sounds around them.

Matt and Sam exchanged glances before considering Leo's words out loud. "Was?" Matt managed to vocalize his question as the ground shook and dust trickled down over their heads.

"I don't think we're gunna make it out of here tonight." Leo admitted, eyes downcast, looking at a picture cupped protectively in his hand.

Sam cleared his throat, trying to pretend as if the same thought hadn't crossed his own mind. "Let's say we do survive the night, what are you gunna do when you see this fiancé of yours?"

A sad laugh was Leo's first response, his eyes rising to meet Sam's expecting gaze. "Keep her away from you." Banter first, but that quickly turned to seriousness as Leo continued – the smile dropping from his lips completely as he looked back down at the photo. "I'll never let her go." The Irishman smirked a little and shook his head. "God that sounds so cliché, but it's true."

Matt nodded grimly before glancing at Sam. "What about you? Got a girl back home Sammy-Boy?"

Sam sighed heavily looking up at the flashing light coming from the hole not too far away. "Did, work got in the way. Rules and – "

Sam paused, frowning as he leaned his head back against the cold wall behind him. "No, that doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't?" Matt asked, but his voice seemed distant now. Sam felt too tired to look for him in the dark.

"Jules – didn't meet her until after – "

"After what, Sam?" Matt sounded closer again, too close.

Sam blinked, turning back to his friend. "After I killed you." Sam breathed out, panic rising in his tightened chest. The panic set off a coughing fit as he watched blood drip down Matt's pale face from a bullet wound – the bullet wound Sam had caused.

The pain in his right side brought back more flashbacks as the next day progressed. Weakened and disoriented from lack of food and clean water Sam slipped in and out of his past with startling ease.

After surviving the night of bombing his unit had been caravanning back to 'safe ground' in order to regroup when the Hummer Sam and Leo were in hit a roadside bomb. Sam had sliced up his side but it was his buddy Leo who had a sliver of shrapnel sticking out of his chest. More like a spear of shrapnel embedded deep within the bleeding and torn flesh. Sam had nearly thrown up at the sight of his friend struggling to breath around the blood bubbling in his mouth.

Both of them were still in the bowels of the totaled vehicle and Sam had tried desperately to save Leo from bleeding out after the disoriented soldier weakly tried to pull the twisted metal free from his chest.

Hands clamped around the gushing wound Sam remembered yelling, begging for a medic as Leo stared up at him with pleading green eyes. The small space, the lighting, the sounds—it was all so similar to the place Sam was trapped now that he had lost his mind in the memories of war.

The sound from the initial blast had been deafening and Sam had remembered someone yelling when the Hummer flipped with a sudden and violent force. There was a moment or two when things were just a blur of motion before darkness took over.

When Sam woke everything was a haze of pain and muffled sound. His eardrums were bleeding, Sam could feel the warm blood dripping down his neck. Groaning he tried to turn and get up only for shearing sharp pain to cripple him again, his cry barely registered to his damaged ears.

Glancing down Sam could see the jagged piece of metal that had found an open spot in his body armor and sliced into his right side. It wasn't bad – at least, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. The wound although painful was shallow and not life threatening. Sam pulled the piece of metal free before he realized that was probably a bad idea. When the wound didn't immediately gush more blood the soldier felt a bit more relaxed and started to move to get a better look at his situation.

Rolling to his left side Sam saw he had been lucky to come away from the IED with a little scratch. His heart sank and stomach nearly left him when Sam saw Franks and Bobby both barely unrecognizable under their coats of thick crimson blood – their bodies twisted and broken sprawled out for him to see. Sam couldn't even spot where the driver, Ricky had been. The whole front half of the Hummer had buckled in or been destroyed. Swallowing, Sam's eyes located the face of the man who had been sitting across from him in the back.

Leo was pale but his eyes were wide open, his breathing erratic, blood dripping down the sides of his blue tinted lips. Alive – very much alive – but in bad shape.

"H-hold on Leo," Sam could barely hear himself saying to his friend. He wondered slightly if he were shouting already but raised his voice as far as it could go. "You're getting out of this – you're going to marry your girl!" Sam's eyes were avoiding the problem – the fragment of twisted metal embedded in Leo's chest. The blood was flowing even with the metal still firmly in place – Sam could guess by its placement that it had hit something important – a lung for sure, but it was too close to Leo's heart for comfort. "Just stay still man, I'll get help. They'll fix you right up – as good as new!"

Through the muffled sound around him, Sam couldn't hear the uttered response from his friend. Sam could see the man's lips opening and closing and the slight shake of Leo's head indicating that he had heard – Leo just didn't agree.

"Don't give up on me yet!" Sam shouted back down, clasping his fallen friend's shoulder before looking for a way to crawl out of the wreckage. Matt's Hummer must have seen the blast; they'd be looking for survivors as soon as the area was cleared of more IEDs.

Leo's movement was caught from the corner of Sam's vision – it happened so fast Sam could only stare in horror after the fact. In his panic Leo had pulled the metal free from his chest and now blood was spraying from the wound.

"Oh God," Sam breathed clamping his hands down tight over the wound. Leo gasped, struggling to breathe with the added pressure as well as struggling with the pain. "Medic! I need a medic in here!" Sam could hear himself clearer now as he screamed for help. "Hold on, damn it." He shouted back down at Leo whose eyes were already staring up at Sam with cold acceptance. "Don't you dare give up!"

Sam groaned coming back to his current hell and stepping back from the darkness of his past. Leo had been the first of many friends who died in front of him. Each of those events had been burned into his mind, but Leo and Matt's deaths had been the hardest to get through.

Reaching up with a shaky hand Sam felt his face was moist – he was crying. With a shaky sob he dropped his hand back down to his lap and rolled his head away from the light floating in from the entrance of his prison.

Right now, in this place, Sam envied their deaths. Matt's had been fast – alive one minute, dead the next. And Leo – Leo hadn't died alone. Sam was dying a slow and painful death and there was no one around to tell him to fight.

"Still gotta," he muttered to himself. "They're looking for me. Just got to hold on a little longer, Leo…I'll hold on a little longer." Sam's eyes slid closed, exhaustion and fever taking control of his mind once again.

* * *

_Well I hope you liked it ^^_

_I won't lie when I say that chapter four is my favorite chapter (chapter three was a close second though)! It'll be coming soon._

_Thanks to those who reviewed for the last chapter! You guys make my day special!_

_Reviewers and Reviewers are love ^^_

_Someone should let me know if I should Italic the flashbacks...I was worried they might be confusing without, but idk. Let me know! _


	4. Chapter 4

_THE EDITED VERSION! _

_Thanks to all that reviewed despite my mistakes! Special thanks to my very busy but awesome beta PSU93Girl! You amaze me!_

* * *

Chapter Four

It had been forty-eight hours since Sam had been taken. Night had fallen over the city once more and Team One was putting their plan into action – hoping to catch the Hit-and-Run killer before their teammate could be added to the list of the dead.

They would all take their turns at half-hour intervals running or walking down the street to see if the killer would make a move on them. In the darkness the others would be ready to intervene – preventing injury and capturing the bastard who had taken Sam.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you guys to use non-lethal force," Ed told the team just before they left HQ. "We need this guy alive if we want to persuade him to give up Sam's location."

Four hours later and the Hit-and-Run killer still hadn't taken the bait.

"It's not looking good," Greg muttered to Ed in the van as Spike made his 'run' casually walking down the dark street in his civilian clothes.

Ed let out the breath he had been holding. "Homicide told us this would be a long shot. The guy's MO was taking a victim a month. We don't know why he broke his pattern by taking Sam."

"And he knows now that he picked up a cop," Parker sighed thinking about Sam's recovered SRU badge and dog tags. "That in itself could have spooked this guy into hiding." Greg nodded, rubbing his head tiredly as he watched the monitors with careful attention. "Every scum bag knows we take it personally when one of our own is targeted."

Uneasy silence fell over the surveillance van. Ed's fist against the side of the van wasn't particularly surprising to either man. The frustration had been building ever since they'd learned about Sam's abduction. "This shouldn't have happened," Ed growled finally.

"Most of the things that happen in life shouldn't have happened," Parker agreed. "Bad things happen to good people. This shouldn't have happened to Sam – God, the last thing I said to him. I wish I could take it back."

"What do you mean?"

Taking in a shaky breath Greg shook his head slowly looking at his best friend. "After the debriefing, I could tell he was beating himself up about the deaths. I was such an idiot, I told him, 'Get some sleep – tomorrow we go back to saving lives.' God I regretted it as soon as I said it. I might as well have told Sam he failed and because of his failure those people ended up dead. The look on his face, it was like I'd punched him in the gut."

Ed shook his head with his friend, but for a different reason. "Aw, Greg. You know Sam, he doesn't hold grudges – unless it's a grudge against himself. He gets mad sure, but he's human. He won't hold that against you, hell after everything that's happened I doubt he'll even remember it."

"Doesn't make me feel any less guilty." Greg admitted, eyes focusing back on Spike just as he reached the end of his 'walk' and entered the building where the rest of the team were set up. "If we don't catch this guy – "

"We'll find Sam." Ed interrupted his boss firmly. "Maybe not like this, but we're going to find him. Don't lose hope, because the second you do Sam's as good as dead."

Silently Parker nodded, the movement weak as his eyes glistened with unshed tears. It took him a few minutes to regain the ability to speak without the words choking in his throat. "I'm not giving up."

That night was a bust. By 4 AM Team One had come to realize their tactic was failing. Returning to SRU HQ their spirits were down, but none of them had given up on their lost friend.

"We have uniforms checking every possible site for the two missing victims. Let's get a few hours of sleep and join the land search – we're going to find them. Sam's strong and he needs us to be strong for him." Greg had been rehearsing this little speech in his head on his way back from the stakeout. At this point he almost believed the words himself – the team needed sleep, but they also needed to get out there and actively look for their lost team member. Everything would look brighter if they had anything on their serial killer or a clue to Sam's location.

No one moved after their boss had stopped talking. They all stood there, eyes downcast, trapped in their own minds and dealing with their own thoughts and inner conflicts. No one wanted to stop the search.

The odds of them finding Sam alive were falling fast as the sun rose on day three after the initial kidnapping. All they knew at this point was that Sam was injured, alone, and stored in an abandoned place with no way to get out.

The last part was assumed. If Sam could get out the team knew he would have. The fact that Sam hadn't gotten himself free struck a nerve of fear in his friends and coworkers. Sam was resilient and resourceful – if there had been some way for him to get free he would have done so.

"I know it's not easy to sleep at a time like this," Ed spoke up suddenly, drawing the eyes of the room to him. "But we need to stay sharp. A few hours of sleep might allow someone to consider something no one has thought of yet. Sam needs us to come up with new ideas and we can't get creative if we're dead on our feet."

Slow nods followed his statement and slowly each team member filed out the door with muttered 'goodnights' and farewells.

Early the next morning Greg Parker got the call. A victim had been found though no one had confirmed if the victim was alive or dead. "Winnie, is it Sam?" He asked before the poor girl could get anything else out.

"They haven't released the information yet. One of the uniforms on scene called us because they were aware we were looking for someone. I have the location but – "

"Send it to my phone, I'll head there now. Inform the rest of the team, I'll call Ed and tell him to meet me at the scene. Tell the rest of the team to wait at SRU headquarters and we'll fill them in when we learn more. We don't want to crowd Homicide as they process the scene, they've been tolerant with our involvement with the case and I don't want to push that if I can help it. Besides there isn't a whole lot we can do until we know more about the situation."

"Yes, Boss." Winnie nodded uselessly before setting to the task of informing the others and forwarding the information to the Sergeant's and Ed's phones.

Ed and Greg arrived at the scene at the same time, their greetings to one another weak at best as they looked for the officer in charge. Before they could find someone to give them information a sheet-covered body was wheeled from the abandoned building.

Time moved slower and the sound around the two SRU officers seemed to fade away. The victim hadn't made it.

"It's too short." Ed broke the time delay and silence with his voice. "Sam's taller than that, bigger than that. It's not Sam." He turned to Greg, who still looked pale and shaky.

"You are right," a voice sounded from behind them, drawing their attention to the owner of the voice. "This victim was the young female taken a week before your man." The police officer was the lead investigator of the case – Charlie Saunders looked even more tired and worn than the SRU officers. Many sleepless nights trying to save people from a serial killer, Greg realized with a wince of sympathy.

He couldn't help but feel grateful to know that the dead victim wasn't his team member – even though it went against Parker's nature to be glad for any innocent person's death.

"Raelyn Mathews, twenty-four years old. Quite the artist too, she's done more for this case than we have in the last few months." Charlie motioned for the SRU men to follow him back into the building.

Camera flashes were going off somewhere in the back of the room. It was very early in the morning and the sun was starting to rise, but the clouds in the sky were heavy with the constant rain that had plagued the city ever since the night of Sam's kidnapping.

Portable lights had been set up, helping the officers to see what Charlie had meant by the girl being an artist.

During her time trapped and alone the girl had used stones to scratch pictures into the wall she had been chained to. Moving closer Greg could see faces, one face drawn three times – male, curly dark hair, and cold-looking eyes. The killer. Written descriptions of the color of his eyes and build were also available as well as a full account of what had happened to Raelyn that night.

"There are a few letters carved into the wall as well. She knew she was dying at the end and left messages to those closest to her." Charlie sighed heavily rubbing his eyes with one hand as he gripped his coffee cup tightly in the other. "We're already sending copies of the sketch out across the city with the description she gave."

Ed couldn't help but ask after seeing how much of the wall around the chain was covered in words or drawings. "Have they determined how long she was alive down here?" It was a hard question to ask, but he couldn't help but wonder if this girl could have been saved. A person could survive for eight weeks without food if they were properly hydrated.

"My medical examiner estimated the time of death being two days ago sometime in the night. Had this rain come a few days sooner…" Charlie shook his head.

"Is there anything we can assist you with?" Greg asked looking around the crime scene.

"Yeah, you can help us catch this SOB. We'll send you the pictures of the scene as soon as we get them processed and let you work your end. If you find this guy before we do I want a piece of him." Charlie's voice got low, dangerous.

Ed nodded, "And if you find him first, we need him alive. Our man is still out there and that SOB is the only one with an exact location."

It took a few minutes into a staring competition between the two men before Charlie nodded. "I understand. We wanna keep the death count at five if we can as well."

Satisfied the SRU officers headed back to their vehicles to go inform the rest of their team.

* * *

Sam was weak, but at least he was having a lucid moment. Sprawled across the ground on his back Sam stared up at the ceiling with dull eyes. It was better than

being back in the desert.

At this point Sam had lost track of how long he had been trapped and alone. The hunger pains had subsided at some point, now his stomach just felt hollow – a numb void at the core of his body.

Dizziness overwhelmed Sam anytime he dared move his head. Coughing left him weak and wheezing, colorful spots flooding Sam's vision.

He was dying and knew it.

Where was he? A basement? It felt like a dungeon or prison cell – somewhere dark, cold and unfamiliar. Was he even in Toronto anymore? Or Canada for that matter? Maybe he was back in the desert, maybe his entire time with Team One and the Strategic Response Unit was some sort of long fever dream. Or was this the dream?

Maybe his 'lucid' moment wasn't so lucid at all – at least he wasn't caught up in the memories of a war that seemed so distant now.

Why was he alone? That was fuzzy.

His friends had been angry with him – Sam remembered vaguely. Something about a mission gone wrong. Perhaps they had sent him to this place as punishment – though it didn't really sound like something they would do. Maybe Sam sent himself here to be tortured for the lives he had taken and the lives of those he couldn't save. Sam deserved this – he deserved to be alone and in pain.

"You aren't alone." A voice drifted over to him and Sam risked the dizziness to look.

"Leo?" Sam mumbled when his friend emerged from the shadows around him. At first Sam was excited not to be alone anymore, but slowly that joy became cold fear – and then acceptance. A humorless laugh bubbled from within him, ending in a light coughing spell. "T-this c-can't be good."

"What do you mean?" His friend asked, smiling sympathetically as he looked over Sam's injuries. Leo looked the same as Sam remembered – but not dressed in military fatigues. Instead Leo was dressed in civilian clothes – dark blue jeans and a short-sleeved blue-gray Tee. His dark hair was cut short, slightly spiky as it had been the day he died. Green eyes were as piercing as ever – but instead of fear they were bright and lively. Leo looked more like the man Sam had met just after they'd finished basic training rather than the scared soldier just trying to survive.

Sam couldn't deny that it was good to see his lost friend – but he couldn't deny the facts either. "I hate to break this to you Leo, but you're dead man." Looking away from his friend Sam felt his mind shifting back to the desert – as his eyes fluttered closed a whimper tore through the back of Sam's throat.

"No, no, no, man. You don't want to go back to the desert. I know this isn't much better, but come on Sammy," Leo was saying, grounding Sam back to the present. Except he couldn't be too grounded because Leo was still here – and Leo was supposed to be dead.

Blinking his eyes open Sam rolled them up to meet Leo's concerned gaze. "You can't be here, not here."

Leo just smiled a sad smile. "I had to fight Matt and a couple of the other guys to be the one to come here." The ghost said, as if it made all the sense in the world that the dead had been watching out for Sam.

"To take me to hell?" Sam asked weakly, his voice barely a whisper. It would figure – leaving one hell to go to another. After what he'd done to his best friend Sam always believed he deserved it.

The look on Leo's face was openly and genuinely horrified. "No – you idiot – to come keep you company until your team saves your ass." Shaking off Sam's comment the dead man moved closer to Sam's side and winced again in sympathy. "I also wanted to thank you for trying to save my life. I know it wasn't easy for you – watching that."

Sam glanced around, he was alone – well alone with a figment of his fever. Maybe opening up a bit about that day would make him feel… something. Closure?

"If it weren't for Matt, I would have eaten a bullet the next day." Sam said with numbing honesty, voice void of all emotion as he stared at the chain keeping him in this place.

"Survival's guilt. You were the only one who walked out of that Transport alive." Leo nodded slowly. "I wouldn't have wanted you to die like that. I don't want you to die at all, Sammy."

"I know," Sam agreed, eyes closing against fresh tears burning behind his retinas. "It was after that when we made that pact – we'd seen so many of our friends die, it would be cheating, disrespectful to take our own lives." Opening his glistening eyes Sam stared at Leo. "It didn't stop me from wishing I'd died with you for a long time after that though. And then after Matt…I nearly lost it."

"We were proud of you, when you pulled it all together." Leo, like he had done so many times when he was alive, moved the conversation to the positive. "Few people could recover from what you'd been through and still be able to smile."

Sam was starting to fall away again, out of this reality and back to the war.

"Fear of spiders is arachnophobia," Leo said suddenly, drawing Sam's dulled eyes back to whatever present this was.

"Wha – " Sam's eyebrows knitted together in straight confusion at the odd words.

Leo cut him off with a crooked grin. "Fear of tight spaces is claustrophobia; fear of Sam Braddock – hot shot sniper – is called Logic."

At first Sam stared at Leo in utter shock, but it didn't take long for shock to turn into laughter, which turned into coughing, which ended with Sam smiling broadly at his long-dead friend. "Oh God, I forgot all about that night!" A few more cough/laughs bubbled in the back of Sam's throat as he shook his head, smiling at the fond memories of his friends.

Still chuckling Sam looked at his friend with a fact of his own. "Once Leon Black and Superman fought one another with a bet. The loser had to wear his underwear on the outside of his pants."

Leo grinned brightly, keeping the game going. "Sam Braddock is the reason why Waldo is hiding."

"Leon Black once threw a hand grenade that killed fifty enemy soldiers – and then it exploded." Sam and Leo giggled for a moment after that one. Not all Sam's memories of war were terrible – it just felt that way sometimes.

"If Sam Braddock were to ever run out of ammo, his weapon would continue to fire out of fear of disappointing Sam Braddock," Leo countered with a thoughtful smile.

Sam grinned at that, but was coughing too hard to respond for a few minutes. Exhausted, Sam laid his head back against the wall and finally managed to find his voice again. "The military tried to replicate Leon Black's ass-kicking skills in the form of a weapon but the best thing they could come up with was a bomb."

It didn't escape either of the boys how weak Sam's voice was becoming, but Leo continued to push the pleasantly distracting conversation. "When all else fails, Sam Braddock doesn't."

The two shared a meaningful look after this one, the power behind the words was meant to be nothing but encouraging.

"Leo," Sam interrupted the game abruptly. "I wish you hadn't died."

With a slow nod Leo sighed. "I do too, Sammy, I do too."

* * *

_Okay, thus the edited version. I am so distracted watching So You Think You Can Dance..._

_Thanks PSU93Girl for the edits! _

_Leave a review if I managed to tug at your heart strings ^^ and thanks for reading!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey guys! An early update from me! Mostly because I'm a review high right now ^^ Thanks to all who have reviewed for this story so far. I think this is one of my best (if not the best) fanfiction I've ever written - I'm glad it was received so well! _

_I hope you enjoy! _

_Again special thanks to my Beta PSU93Girl who is amazing! Seriously this story would not be as awesome without her help! _

* * *

Chapter Five

Ed was scrambling for some sort of idea, some off thought that would lead them to Sam's location. Time was gone, run out; he needed to find his friend now – before it was too late. Like it had been too late for Raelyn Mathews.

The girl's sketches and ramblings had been emailed to the SRU headquarters as soon as it had been possible. Spike had wasted no time printing several copies of each image and handing them out to the members of Team One.

Even the other teams had paused their workouts and training to render assistance in finding Sam – fresh eyes were always appreciated as far as Ed was concerned. Any help was welcomed at this point.

"This girl was an amazing artist," Jules broke the silence that had fallen over the briefing room not long after Greg and Ed had told Team One the fifth victim had been recovered. "I wonder how many times she saw this man."

Spike glanced over her shoulder, coming back into the room after a short break – his eyes were bloodshot from staring at computer screens nearly non-stop since this whole situation began. "Why? Are you wondering if her image is accurate enough to find the Hit and Runner?" The Italian asked, passing by her and settling comfortably in front of his computer.

"I know we really have no way of knowing how accurate the drawings are, I was just inspired by the girl's talent. If I had tried to draw my kidnapper's face it would look like some kid playing connect the dots." She smiled sadly at her friend from across the table – trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"Ha, I couldn't even manage that." Spike laughed, the sound forced and awkward. It was hard for any of them to make light of such a serious time. Sam was out there dying and alone waiting for Team One to get their acts together and save his ass.

Ed was half listening to the others, his thoughts circling around something Jules had said. "Connect the dots." The team leader mumbled to himself thoughtfully. "Spike," he called suddenly, drawing the attention of the room to himself. "Could you pull up a map of the city with each location of the victims they've found?"

"Sure," Spike nodded, typing the controls in the computer quickly. One by one the locations popped up on the screen forming absolutely no discernable pattern. Shaking his head Ed didn't back down from his new theory.

"Now pull up the locations of the burned vehicles." He told Spike, ignoring the questioning looks he was receiving from around the room. Ed hoped he was onto something because he could tell he'd raised the hopes of the other members of his team .

Considering the seemingly random sense of the dumping sites corresponding to where each of the victims were found Ed had nearly given up on the locations being purposeful. That of course didn't track with a typical serial killer – psychopaths usually had a meticulous and well-thought-out reason for the things they did. They liked leaving a mark – something to be known for.

However, Ed had struggled over finding some sense of organization out of the chaos left behind. As the locations of the burned vehicles slowly popped up on the screen he held his breath.

"Do you see what I see?" He asked Spike once the last dot blinked on the screen.

Slowly the Italian nodded, "I think so."

"Can you connect the dots?" Ed asked, leaning over Spike's shoulder to draw lines on the screen with his finger from dot to dot. Once they were finished the room was silent.

There was only one space missing by the time they had connected the dots and revealed the shape. "A star." Spike uttered finally.

"The star of David, to be specific," Wordy offered suddenly, "It appears to be geometrically correct," he informed them excitedly; electricity filled the room – reigniting the energy within each team member.

"Spike – " Ed started the order to run the reference of the lines for a possible location on Sam.

"Doing it now, Ed."

Greg stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Ed staring at the screen as Spike worked. "How could we not see this before?"

"We needed all the information, the way this guy set it up; he didn't make it easy on us." Ed shook his head. "Let's hope we figured it out in time."

"I've got it; it's a condemned church – that has to be where Sam is!"

Everyone looked towards their Sergeant and Greg nodded. "Let's get suited up. Winnie, call the hospital, we're going to need an ambulance." There was no 'if Sam's alive' or any doubt that they'd find their teammate, friend, and family member alive. Parker hadn't lied to Ed when he said he wouldn't give up hope. Especially not now when they were so close.

Though no one timed Team One in their rush to gear up they broke every record at the SRU for getting ready for a Hot Call.

* * *

"Come on Sammy, just hold on," Leo's voice was becoming echoy and muffled all at the same time. It made Sam wonder if he was underwater or in a cave – it took too much effort to open his eyes anymore. Too weak to even cough anymore Sam just lay there on the hard ground and wheezed – breathing in and out in harsh, loud pants.

Leo could see his friend was fading, dying in front of him. The fever was raging out of control now – its hold over Sam's mind was disconcerting to say the least. The flashbacks and memories came and went no matter what Leo did to prevent them from torturing his friend.

It was sort of ironic that this experience helped Leo understand what Sam had gone through all those years ago – watching someone slip away and not being able to do a damned thing about it. "Hold on, buddy. You are going to make it out of here and live a long life." The words didn't seem as powerful as the one's Sam had uttered to Leo when he was dying – but the dead soldier hoped they got through to Sam. Hoped that they helped somehow. "You're not dying today, Braddock!"

"Leo," Sam muttered just as the creak of footsteps sounded overhead.

"Down here!" A man's voice called from the hidden world above them. "Walk on the corners, the floor is unstable. One at a time, we can't afford it breaking under our weight." It was one of Sam's team members, Leo recognized – Ed Lane.

"See, Sammy? They're here, buddy, just hold on a bit longer. They'll get you fixed up and you'll be back out there keeping the peace." Leo grinned down at his dazed friend. At least Sam wasn't in the throes of another terrible flashback.

"Leo," Sam muttered weakly, drawing his friend closer as Ed appeared on the stone steps.

"Sam!" The older man called before rushing to Sam's side – checking Sam over the man quickly started to take his vitals.

"Yeah Sam," Leo ignored the other man, knowing that the Team Leader couldn't see or hear him anyway.

"Don't go," Sam's dull eyes begged Leo, looking away from Ed's careful ministrations.

"Not going anywhere, Sam. We're going to get you out of here, just stay with me." Ed interrupted the moment, not realizing Sam wasn't talking to him. Sam ignored him – or didn't recognize he was being rescued through his fevered haze.

"Leo," Sam coughed harshly trying to reach out to the dead solder. "Don't leave."

Wishing he could do something more for Sam, Leo just smiled. "I'm always around, don't you forget that. Even if you can't see me – Matt, Ben, Josh, and the others too."

"Sam? You with me buddy?" Ed's eyes narrowed, apparently realizing that Sam's mind was somewhere else. His hand rested on Sam's too-pale face and cursed under his breath. A female SRU offer joined him, gasping lightly before joining Ed. Leo smiled – so that was Jules.

"How is he?" Jules asked, kneeling next to Ed – her worried eyes taking in the sight that was Sam Braddock. He was a mess – pale, shaking, and wheezing.

"He's burning up," Ed informed her in a calm voice. "Call up to the EMS team and let them know he's alive, but in bad shape. It's too dangerous to have the EMS team come in the building – we need to bring Sam to them. Spike, we need you down here to get this thing off Sam."

Sam still didn't acknowledge the others in the room and Leo sighed, "Sammy, I have to go. If you keep talking to shadows they'll think you've lost your mind." Leo stood but hesitated, remaining in Sam's field of vision. "Hey Sam, could you do me one favor."

"Anything," Sam coughed out the word, still ignoring Ed who looked increasingly concerned for the younger man's health.

"When you get fixed up, will you check in with Georgia?" Leo hated to ask Sam of this, but Georgia had never really recovered after the news of her fiancé's death. They had hit it off at Leo's memorial service but never kept in constant touch.

Slowly Sam nodded, though Leo could tell it was with reluctance. "Okay."

Leo smiled gratefully down at his friend, "I'll be seeing you." And with a wave goodbye Sam's lost friend was gone.

Jules and Ed shared a curious look, both were wondering who Sam was talking to – and how bad his condition must be if Sam was having hallucinations.

Turning his head back to Ed Sam blinked slowly up at the older man. "What…took you guys…so long…?" The injured man asked playfully through a bubble of harsh coughs working there way up from his inflamed lungs.

A sad smile curled the edges of Ed's lips upward as Sam spoke directly to him. A sigh of relief joined his reply. "I'm sorry buddy, but you play a mean game of hide and seek."

Jules moved closer, trying to capture Sam's attention. "Sam, can you tell me where you're injured?" She was afraid to touch him and cause him more pain.

"Lower right side impact point," Sam whispered in a strained voice, wincing as he attempted to move his arm. Half of him was having a hard time believing they were actually here with him. Ed seemed solid enough though, he'd touched Sam's skin – Sam had felt him. Leo had always hovered just out of reach – a voice made up of sound and memory. "Left knee was swollen, chest infection – dunno anymore. Fever's been bad, how long?"

Though Sam's rasping words faded in and out of audible range his friends appeared to understand him perfectly. Their full attention was his. It felt nice – safe.

"You've been down here for three days." Ed answered him, not bothering to mask the guilt in his voice. They should have found Sam sooner – Ed knew he should have found the pattern faster. Sam was alive – that was the only thing that mattered right now.

Sam's fever bright blue eyes fell shut for a moment as he breathed roughly. "Felt longer."

A hand wrapped around his in a comforting way – Jules. "Everything's going to be okay now, Sam."

Spike entered the scene with some equipment, Sam's eyes didn't reopen – his breath evening out slightly. The three SRU officers exchanged looks and Jules moved away to update the others on Sam's condition.

"Let's get him out of here," Ed nodded to Spike, helping the younger man in the task of removing the iron chain from Sam's ankle.

* * *

Team One was overjoyed to find Sam alive – even though his condition was serious. Leaving Homicide to process the scene Sam's family settled into the hospital's waiting room – hoping for good news once the doctor made his appearance.

As the adrenalin rush from finding Sam faded Team One started to react to the crash of stress in different ways. Greg sat hunched over in one of the waiting room chairs – doing a very convincing impersonation of a stone statue with a lost-in-thought look etched into his features. Spike had set to focusing on his computer, typing and searching information – what Ed wasn't sure. Jules was curled into a chair next to the Italian fast asleep and Wordy and Lewis couldn't seem to sit still – standing every once in a while, wandering around before returning to his seat nervously. At one point Wordy had disappeared for a short time only to return with cups of coffee for the team supplied by the cafeteria.

Ed couldn't bring himself to sit down – so he leaned up against a wall and watched over his team.

Finally a doctor made an appearance. "Family of Samuel Braddock?" He asked, glancing at a clipboard before looking around the room at the suddenly alert faces.

Ed was the first to move closer, slowly followed by the others. "Okay," the doctor nodded, glancing down at the board again for a second before speaking again. "Mr. Braddock came in with several serious injuries as well as severe dehydration and the start of malnutrition. The condition of his lungs remains our primary concern right now – Mr. Braddock is a very sick man. His temperature is steady right now at 104.3, which is a bit higher than we'd like. We've put him on a strong cocktail of antibiotics to battle the infection there as well as the smaller infections in his open wounds. The minor injuries include several abrasions and contusions on various parts of his body, bruised hip bone and cracked ribs that are mostly healed now and a very minor fracture line on his left kneecap."

"His knee," Ed started, it was all over whelming, but it seemed to him that a leg injury would be the most problematic for Sam rejoining the team.

The doctor nodded, understanding the question perfectly. "As I said it's a very minor fracture. Though it caused some swelling and probably a lot of pain, it, like Mr. Braddock's ribs, is healing nicely. It helped that he kept the limb straight during his captivity and never put pressure on the wound – had he done things differently we might be having a very different conversation right now. I don't see the injury affecting his ability to work; a simple brace will be used until the fracture heals properly."

Everyone in the group seemed to be equally relieved by the news. "Can we see him?" Greg spoke up next.

"Currently he's sleeping off the pain meds we pumped him with – as well as the strong mix of antibiotics. I'm confident that Mr. Braddock will not be waking until sometime tomorrow afternoon. You can sit with him if you'd like, only two of you will be allowed in the room at a time until he's moved from the ICU – something I don't see happening at least for two more days."

The group nodded slowly and the doctor left them to decide who would visit their fallen comrade first with the promise that a nurse would show them Sam's room.

"Okay gang, let's go in ten minutes per pair and then head home to get some sleep." Greg announced. "We all could use the rest and like the doctor said Sam won't be waking up until sometime tomorrow."

Ed agreed, he knew how little sleep he had been getting since this all started – he could tell the rest of the team was suffering from deprivation as well. Too tired to argue the team nodded reluctantly and waited to be paired up.

* * *

_And thus! Sam has been saved! _

_One more chapter and an epilog left! _

_Tell me what you guys think! _

_Reviews and Reviewers are loved (as always!) _


	6. Chapter 6

_Hey guys, thanks for all those who have reviewed for this story - it means a lot to me!_

_Again a big thanks to my Beta! PSU93Girl!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter Six

Jules and Wordy were the first to enter Sam's ICU hospital room – both hesitated in the doorway before venturing closer to Sam's bedside. Their friend and comrade lay in the bed as motionless as he was pale. Too pale – almost a sheet with the exception of the pink hue of fever on his cheek.

Two IV lines were set up – pouring liquids into the dehydrated body of the sleeping former soldier. The sounds that filled the direr dire atmosphere in the room included a steady steadily – although slightly fast – beeping heart monitor and Sam's harsh, wheezing breaths. At least the doctors hadn't seen a need to put their friend on a ventilator yet – they all hoped his condition would improve before it declined.

Slowly Jules reached out and took her former lover's hand into her own – times like this made it difficult for her to remain indifferent towards Sam. Yes she was the one who ended it – breaking his heart in the process. Still Jules loved him, in a way she never thought she could quit. "Sam, you're going to be okay." She whispered, not bothered that Wordy was standing with her. "I thought – I was so scared I'd never see you again." Tears filled the profiler's eyes quicker than she could hold them back, dripping down her face unchecked as she held onto Sam's limp hand for dear life.

The older man placed a comforting hand on Jules' shoulder, too lost in his own thoughts to really give her actions much consideration.

"Next time buddy," Wordy spoke to the unconscious man quietly. "I'm giving you a ride. In fact, I'm never letting you ride that stupid bike again." There was no reaction – Sam being too lost in a haze of drugs and healing rest to hear them. Wordy knew he would have to repeat the sentiment when his friend was once again among the conscious world.

Still it helped the older man's soul by saying to say the words out loud – getting the aching pain of guilt he'd been carrying for the past three days off his chest and out in the open.

Jules sniffled and looked up at Wordy, surprise echoing in her glistening eyes. "Wordy, it wasn't your fault, not by a long shot! None of us could have predicted what would happen that night." Even distracted by her own turmoil Jules could tell that her words were falling on deaf ears – Wordy's mind was set. He'd already carved his sins into his heart – only Sam could convince Wordy to let the bleeding wounds of his soul heal.

Jules thought back to how quiet Wordy had been the past few days. He, like everyone, had focused everything into finding Sam – he'd never let on how much he blamed himself though.

"If I had just offered him a ride home earlier," Wordy insisted, closing his eyes and looking away in shame. "I know I could have prevented this. It was a random act – the Hit and Run killer was a man of opportunity and Sam was an easy target that night. Distracted and upset, he had his guard down, Jules. I should have prevented this – I could have prevented this." He waved his hand over Sam's prone body in defeat.

Frowning at Wordy Jules looked down at Sam as one of her stray tears plopped down on the unconscious man's limp hand. "Well if you think you are at fault, then I am as well. If I hadn't been so upset – if I had just listened to his side of the story that debriefing would never have gotten so out of hand. If I had been – " Her voice was cut off by a sob escaping the back of her throat. "If I had been in control – he wouldn't have been so distracted. And you – you would have given him a ride because we wouldn't have driven him away. Maybe – maybe we'd have gone out for drinks, but instead he was taken by a psychopath and now – "

"Jules, don't say that." Wordy choked out, the guilt only digging deeper in his heart. "It wasn't just you – we all attacked him. None of this is your fault."

"But I was unrelenting," Jules cried out, turning her eyes from Sam to Wordy again.

Wordy sighed, wrapping a friendly arm around Jules's shoulder as she turned into him and started to cry. "It'll be okay, Sam's going to be fine." He sighed, realizing a little too late that he wasn't the only one shouldering guilt. "We just need to remember who really did this to Sam – that bastard is going to pay." Whoever that bastard was, Wordy winced inwardly.

The two spent the remainder of their time in silence watching over Sam's still form lost in their own thoughts and burning regrets.

Spike and Lewis were the second pair to enter the cramped hospital room. Normally Spike was comforted by technology and appreciated advanced machinery – but seeing so many wires and monitors hooked up to a close friend disturbed him.

"Hey Samtastic," Spike kept his voice light and happy, hoping that the positive vibes would do good for Sam's recovery. "You sure did give us a scare, there buddy." He plopped down in the chair Jules' had pulled up next to Sam's bedside.

Lewis hovered near the door, unsure of what to say or do. He and Sam had never really hung out together outside of their time at work, but it still hurt Lewis to see a fellow SRU officer in such a condition. It also hurt to see Spike so upset – yet the Italian covered the emotion bravely. It was admirable.

"I mean, I knew it'd be the bike that got you – but this was a bit extreme right?" Spike continued in a playful voice – eyes soaking in Sam's closed eyes and pale face. Sam looked better now then than he had in the basement of the condemned church. Cleaned up from the dried blood and dirt. Spike wouldn't be free of that haunting image for a long time – no doubt the memory would be staring in his nightmares for the nights to come. "When you get out of here we're going car shopping – I'm gunna gonna make you buy the biggest safest car out there. I've already got a top ten list!"

Lewis slowly moved to join Spike, swallowing thickly as he eyed the bandages and trying in vain to block out the harsh sound of Sam's wheezing breathes. "He's not lying either." Lou offered, wanting Sam to know that he was there for him too. It was just so hard seeing the reality of the situation.

Spike smiled up at Lou, encouraging his best friend mutely before turning back to Sam's unmoving form. "And no you can't buy a motorcycle – not even if it's as bad ass as you, Braddock. We're trying to avoid another situation like this, okay?"

"Just get better man," Lewis muttered, more to himself then than to the unconscious ex-soldier in the hospital bed.

Greg and Ed were the last team members to enter the hospital room. The two older men stood shoulder to shoulder for a moment staring down at their young team member in silence.

"He looks a lot younger when he's asleep." Greg offered lightly to Ed as he moved forward and closer to Sam's bedside.

Ed smirked lightly at the comment. "Innocent too, at least when he's not running his mouth." Ed shook his head though his expression was that of fondness, eyeing the monitor for Sam's vitals before continuing. "Soon he's going to wake up and demand to be released against medical advice."

"Just like you'd do." Parker snickered slightly, numbly settling himself in the chair with a drawn out sigh. "I hate this part. Waiting. I'll be glad when Sam is himself again."

Ed nodded his agreement, a frown forming on his lips as his mind traveled over the events of the day. "Back in the church – when I first got to him – Sam was pretty out of it. He was talking to the shadows, calling out to someone named Leo." They all knew the story about Matt's tragic death but apart from that traumatic incident Sam rarely talked about his time in Afghanistan.

Greg shrugged glancing back at Ed's concerned face. "A lot of what Sam did while in Special Forces is classified – he can't talk about it. The rest of his memories are probably things he'd rather forget." The Sergeant sighed, glancing back at his fallen man. "When we got him out of there his temperature was dangerously high, Sam's mind must have taken him back to some pretty dark places."

"Three days trapped in his mind," Ed sighed moving closer to the bed. "You have to wonder how much turmoil one guy's head can go through before he completely snaps."

"He won't be alone." Greg took his turn leaning his best friend towards the positive. Ed had saved Sam physically, but it would take the whole team to bring Sam back from his isolation.

When Greg and Ed emerged from Sam's room they returned to their tired family to find the others tense. Immediately Ed knew something was up, "What happened?" He asked Spike who seemed to be the center of the emotions.

"Homicide just sent me a file on the crime scene where we found Sam." The Italian told his superiors. He looked up from the computer screen and motioned them closer to take a look. "They found this note in the church, pinned to a cross just above where Sam was."

Ed leaned forward to get a look at the image of a creased piece of paper, a chill running down his spine when the words filled his eyes. "It is finished." Was displayed in big bold black letters. It was signed "The Bringer of Death."

The words were typed and Ed remembered vaguely that Sam had told them no prints had been found. The guy was good – printing on generic paper with generic ink. There was nothing that would help in the hunt to catch the psychopath.

"This note was probably left with Sam that night," Ed seethed. "He's had three days to get as far away from Canada as possible. Bastard."

Greg shook his head slightly, "There is a chance he would stick around and watch the chaos he started." The words were spoken, but the team caught their boss's skeptical tone – Parker thought the Hit and Run killer, AKA 'bringer of death' was gone too.

"Wherever he is," Ed spoke again, catching the attention of the team with his serious tone. "This guy is not going to be happy that his last victim survived – he may come after Sam someday."

"If he does, it'll be the last thing he does as a free man." Spike said confidently.

Jules nodded with the Italian. "He's not going to touch Sam again."

The others nodded in agreement before Greg announced that they all should head home and get some rest.

"I'll stay with him tonight," the Sergeant told Ed once the younger team members had filtered out of the hospital waiting room. "If this bastard is still lurking around Toronto I don't want to risk leaving Sam alone."

Ed nodded, "I'll take the next shift tomorrow."

* * *

When Sam drifted towards consciousness he was sure he was still in hell. "Leo?" Sam croaked out – wincing deeply after his first attempt of at opening his light sensitive eyes ended in his retina's bursting into flames. Screwing his eyes closed the young sniper groaned, shifting in agony in the bed.

Wait – bed?

That didn't make sense.

"Sam?" Ed's voice sounded from somewhere out in the too bright world around him. Only when the terrible burning white light dimmed too to a bearable level did Sam risked opening his eyes again. Blinking away the blur and lingering pain Sam focused his eyes onto his mentor's face. "Sam, buddy, are you with me?" Ed was asking, face tight with concern.

"Ye-ah." Sam rasped out the word, his throat was dry and painfully scratchy. The one word left him with a sudden and painful coughing fit, which ended faster then than Sam expected.

His Team Leader seemed to read his mind, disappearing momentarily only to return with a cup of water armed with a bendy straw. "I'm going to raise the bed, okay?" The older man informed Sam who nodded mutely and closed his eyes and breathed deeply until the act was finished.

When Sam pried his eyes open once again he gratefully accepted the water – the cool liquid soothing his throat as it went down. "What happened?" Sam asked once he was finished – his voice sounding stronger.

Ed shifted before finally lowering himself into a chair next to Sam's bed. The caution in Ed's eyes made Sam tense with anticipation. "What do you remember?" Ed let a question answer Sam's inquiry.

Ed was playing it safe,safe; Sam realized and spent a minute thinking about the question – leaning back into the comfort of the white pillow behind his aching head. Silently Sam searched his mind for his last memories.

_Cold. Dark. Pain. Alone._

Images popped into his head making his muscles tense painfully – than there were those memories that didn't belong.

_Desert. IED. Death. Leo._

"Leo," Sam muttered, blue eyes fluttering open slowly. "I think I had a dream about him."

This seemed to capture Ed's already focused attention. "You mentioned him a few times, who is he?" They were steering the conversation away from where Ed had intended – yet this worked for him.

"He was a friend," Sam spoke carefully, blue eyes not meeting Ed's steady gaze as his lips moved. "He died – along with four other guys – when our transport hit an IED." Sam cleared his throat, which seemed to be closing up as he finally met Ed's caring expression. "I was the only one that who walked away. It took them a while to get me out of the wreckage though – I think the dark space, that place I was in just reminded me." He shook his head. "I was hit by a car, right? I woke up in a – I'm not sure where I was actually."

"It was a condemned church." Ed supplied Sam with the information – filing what the younger man had told him for later. It amazed and impressed Ed how Sam was still able to carry himself after living through such hell. The damage to the kid's soul was obvious – just because Sam had buried the emotions didn't mean that they weren't there hovering just under the surface.

Someday Ed feared Sam wouldn't be able to push everything down and the fall out of that would destroy the young man. "You were there for three days – Sam you were pretty out of it when we got you out of there." Ed's voice cracked a bit from the emotion he'd been holding back for the sake of the team.

Sam caught the change in tone and eyed the man he respected more then than his own father and decided to try and lighten the suddenly heavy mood. "Well, it's not like I asked a crazy dude to hit me with his car. Did you catch the guy? How long has it been anyway?"

Ed tensed further, eyes dropping at Sam's first question. "We still have no clue who the guy is – the vague sketch we have of him didn't pan out. There is a theory that he left Canada as soon as he snatched you."

"I don't remember his face, the light was behind him – I don't even remember the color of the guy's hair." Sam studied his own hands as he digested the information. "Why? Do you know why he did this?" Sam pleaded, finally looking up at the older man.

"As far as we can figure without talking to the bastard, you and the others were just convenient targets – in the wrong place at the wrong time. We believe the victims were random – "

"Wait," Sam interrupted quickly, eyes narrowing. "Victims? There were more then than me, I don't understand."

Ed nodded slowly, carefully gauging carefully how Sam was processing the new information – this wasn't exactly how he had planned on telling Sam. "Six of you all together – different genders, ages, races – I didn't find a rhyme or reason to his selection process. You were all spread out over the city in a pattern. I personally think they were all murders of opportunity – pieces of some sick puzzle this guy was creating. You were the only one that who survived."

Sam soaked in the information not masking the shock from his face. It was several minutes before the sniper found his voice again. "Well, I think this just proved that I have terrible luck." Sam tried to find humor – but his efforts were lost by the turmoil reflecting in his haunted eyes and the way his voice sounded so broken.

"Actually, I think it proves the opposite." Ed told Sam carefully. "I think you are extremely luckily to be alive."

"How long has it been?" Sam asked again, dodging around Ed's reassurance.

"You spent three days in the church,church; it's been five days since we got you out of there." Ed answered quickly – hoping it would be like ripping off a band-aid.

Sam looked devastated, "What?"

Ed's lips formed a solid line before he spoke again. "This isn't really the first time you've been awake either." He admitted carefully. "The other times though – you weren't really yourself. They decided to keep you sedated after the second day – this is the first time they've let you return to the world of the living. You were pretty agitated."

"Oh God," Sam moaned leaning back into his pillow as if he were trying to bury himself and hide. "What did I say? Was it bad? Was Jules there?"

A smirk formed on Ed's lips. "Trust me,me; no one will hold anything against you. Most of what you said had nothing to do with anything. You were pretty out of it, Sam."

Sam sighed, still not happy that he had been so vulnerable in front of his coworkers and friends. "Has the General or my mom stopped by at all?"

Ed winced a bit and shook his head. "Greg called them,them; I think they're out of the country right now. He left a few messages, but – "

With a wave of his hand, Sam silenced his friend. "It's okay, I get it."

Silence fell over the two again, both men lost in their own thoughts.

"Look, Sam." Ed started suddenly, breaking the compatible quietsilence. "We're all here for you – if you want to talk about what happened."

"Honestly it's all a blur." Sam shook his head slightly, "I remember the first day in that place pretty well – after that it gets confusing. I-I had some flash backs, it's hard to tell what was real and what my mind made up." He shook his head, not really wanting to talk about it. However he knew Ed and Greg – hell the rest of the team too – wouldn't let him deal with this alone. Sam was grateful for the sentiment – grateful for the friends he considered family. "I knew you guys would come for me – didn't doubt it for one minute."

That made Ed smile a little, "I'm glad you had faith in us, Sam. We didn't give up on you either – we knew you would be okay. Nothing's lost if you can find it in time, right?"

"Right." Sam agreed, his eyes growing heavy as he found blinking difficult. "When – when can I return to work?" Sam yawned tiredly.

Ed shifted in his seat and answered easily. "All the sleeping you've been doing actually has helped that along. Once the infection in your lungs is cleared up the doctor says you can return to work. Something like a week." Seeing Sam growing more and more tired Ed cleared his throat. "You should get some rest – one of us will be here when you wake up."

"Thanks Ed." Sam mumbled, half asleep. "Thanks for finding me."

"Anytime, Sam." Ed nodded, leaning back in the chair as he watched over his sleeping comrade.

* * *

_Just the epilog left ^^_

'Nothing's lost if you can find it in time' were lyrics from the amazing song **Tigers** by _The Submarines_ (check it out!) It kind of was the inspiration for this story, so I thought I'd steer you guys to it if you were interested.

_Tell me what you think!_

_Reviews are love! _


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey guys, thanks for the great ride! You've all been amazingly supportive. _

_Special thanks to my wonderful beta PSU93Girl who has been a gem! _

_Here's the end...or is it? Enjoy! _

* * *

Epilog

Three days after his chat with Ed Sam was released from the hospital. He was still required to spend most of his time resting, take several different types of pills, and wear a knee brace even when he was sleeping.

The team still didn't want Sam to be alone – worried that the Hit and Run killer would return to finish the job. Wordy and Ed had both fought over who Sam would be living with once he was released. Greg stepped in before the heated discussion could escalate further and announced that Sam would be staying with him at his home.

Half-heartedly Sam had tried to turn them down – saying it wasn't necessary for them to worry. The nightmares had changed his mind.

Apparently by the time Sam had been released his teammates had come up with some sort of housing schedule – Greg would get Sam for the first weekend, then he would be transferred to Wordy's home so that Shelly could look after him during the day, and the next week Ed would get his chance to babysit him.

It was flattering, frustrating, and frightening all at the same time for Sam.

Flattering that his team cared that much about him. Though Sam had the utmost confidence that his team would come rescue him from that hell, the sniper was secretly worried that he was going to end up overstepping some boundaries.

The General had taught him that people always played an angle. They always wanted something from you; nothing was given without a price. Though his father's words had lost their meaning over the years Sam didn't want to walk all over the kind gestures from his friends and coworkers – his placebo family. Before even making it to Greg's house Sam silently vowed to be the perfect houseguest.

Sam was abnormally quiet the first day at Greg's and his boss didn't push him to talk. The guy was a ghost – doing exactly as told and staying out of the way. The Sergeant knew that Sam tended to deal with things like this alone, but that wouldn't stop him from intervening if necessary.

His intervention came when he heard Sam cry out in his sleep one night.

Getting up, Greg slowly moved to Sam's bedroom door and listened carefully. He didn't want to push Sam to talk about what happened. He didn't want the kid to deal with everything alone either.

Lightly, Greg knocked on the door.

"Greg," Sam's voice answered, inviting the older man in. The bed was a mess – the product of a night of tossing and turning. "I'm sorry if I woke you," Sam whispered roughly, coughing lightly into a closed fist before looking up sheepishly at his boss.

"Nah, I was awake anyway," Greg said honestly, keeping a safe distance, not wanting to crowd his friend. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sam took in a deep breath, knowing that he'd have to talk about things eventually – especially if he wanted to return to work soon. "Did Ed tell you about my flashbacks?"

Greg shook his head. "He didn't say anything."

Although it was comforting that there had been no whispers behind his back, Ed not telling Greg just meant that Sam would have to talk more.

"Ah, well, the fever sparked some interesting memories," Sam said vaguely, eyes dropping to his hands.

It was four in the morning and Greg realized neither one of them would probably go back to sleep after this. "I was going to make some coffee, let's talk in the kitchen."

Sam glanced up and nodded, untangling himself from the sheets, and joining Greg at the door.

An hour later and Sam had told Greg about the night in the foxhole during the shelling and being the only survivor of a roadside bomb. Basically Sam told Greg about Leo.

"He was a good guy, a good friend." Sam cleared his throat, clogged with sudden emotion. "He was there, probably a figment of my imagination, but at the end when I thought I wasn't going to make it out of that place – " Sam shrugged, not looking up at his boss but staring into the deep brown liquid pooled in the mug between his hands. "He was there with me. Bringing up old jokes I'd forgotten, keeping me sane – as crazy as I'm sure that sounds. Me communicating with dead people isn't something people would consider sane, but – "

Greg was only slightly surprised by Sam telling him this – Ed had already informed him that Sam had talked about someone named Leo when they rescued him, but it wasn't like Sam to be this open.

"I miss him." Sam added when Greg was caught up in his own thoughts.

"Maybe it was your imagination, a mixture of fever and memories, but there is a chance it was something else." Greg shrugged, "Maybe wherever he is, he misses you to."

By the end of the weekend Sam was talking more – no longer about what happened, but acting more normal. More Sam-like.

Just before Greg was supposed to drive him over to Wordy's the Sergeant caught Sam perched on the edge of his military neat bed staring at his phone.

"It's not going to bite you," Greg offered lightly. The kid did look like he was suddenly afraid of the device. Suddenly Parker wondered if Sam's parents had finally called him.

"I know." Sam didn't look up. "I made a promise, but I can't bring myself to follow through with it yet."

"A promise?" Greg asked, curious.

"To Leo, well, my memory of him I guess." Sam hadn't talked about his confession since that morning over coffee. "When Ed found me, Leo said he had to go, but he wanted me to call Georgia – his fiancé – when I got fixed up." Sam looked up. "I'm afraid though, what if I call her and it just reminds her of her loss? I don't want to cause her pain…"

Greg thought about this for a minute before speaking again. "Did your time with Leo cause you pain?"

Blinking away his initial surprise at the comment Sam shook his head. "No, it probably saved my life. It – he also reminded me of some of the good times when I was caught up in remembering all the bad."

With a nod Greg smiled, "Perhaps that's what you can do for her. Remind her of the good things." After reminding Sam they had to leave soon he left the kid to make his decision, smiling when he heard Sam speaking into the phone.

"Hey, Georgia? This is Sam Braddock, I'm not sure if you remember me – " There was a small pause before Sam laughed a bit, "Yeah, that's me. Listen, I was wondering if you might want to meet up sometime. Get coffee and talk."

Stepping away, Greg gave Sam his space.

* * *

Sam was greeted with cheers as he walked into the locker room his first official day back. Blushing, Sam tried to shrug off the unnecessary greeting.

"Samtastic, back to business! Bad guys of Toronto beware!" Spike slapped his friend on the back in a friendly gesture before leaning against another locker to watch Sam grab his uniform jacket.

Ed and Wordy watched from the other side of the room with equal smiles. "How does it feel to be back?" Wordy asked. The few days Sam had spent with his family had been pleasant and the girls had been asking about the young man's health ever since he got shipped off to Ed's.

"Good," Sam said honestly, throwing the older men a genuine smile. "At least I can start working off the extra pounds your wives forced on me." He laughed lightly. Shelly and Sophie both had taken it upon themselves to stuff Sam while he had been living with him. At first Sam understood he had lost a bit of weight during his captivity, but after a while it became a bit much. Living alone Sam had lived mostly on pizza and take out – he wasn't used to so much healthy food or good home-cooked meals. It was awesome, but it was also causing him to bulk up a bit more then he wanted.

The older men laughed knowingly. "Yeah, Sophie can go a little overboard. Now you know what it's like to be me."

"And me." Wordy grinned. "You need to come back next week; I liked not being the only man in the house."

Sam laughed but didn't confirm either way – he was actually looking forward to going home. Somehow he figured he wouldn't be doing that anytime soon. There had been no sign of the Hit and Run killer – Sam was pretty sure the guy had fled the country, but the others were being protective.

"Hey, don't I get him for a while?" Spike asked as they walked out to join the others in the workout room.

Sam snorted at his friend's comment, "I don't think your parents would be very thrilled if you brought home a stray."

The Italian took a minute to pretend to be hurt before shaking his head. "You're not a stray if you're family." He said simply.

"Debriefing in five, people." Greg announced from the conference room.

"Debriefing?" Sam questioned as the others started to file into the room.

"You too Sam, we need to go over that last Call." Greg told the younger man carefully.

Jules appeared next to him with a small smile. "Yes, it turns out we were very wrong about some things."

Sam was frozen for a moment. "Aw, you guys that's over. We don't have to – "

"Yes," Ed interrupted lightly. "We do."

A look of acceptance and appreciation took over Sam's face as he nodded. He was finally home.

"It's good to be home."

* * *

In a hotel in Reno, Nevada a man scrolled down on his computer screen – reading an article on a serial killer in Toronto, Canada.

"Six victims – five dead."

Five. Five dead. Not six. There were supposed to be six. Though there was no information on the surviving victim the man had an idea of who it was. The cop, the soldier.

Once the man had read through the article he abruptly smashed the small device. No one was supposed to survive – it was supposed to be the perfect crime.

Screaming, the man punched a hole in the drywall and hissed. "No matter," He spoke to himself, suddenly eerily calm as he stared at his busted hand. "I simply will have to tie up this loose end." A cruel smile curled up on the edges of his lips. A new plan – a new approach.

_This will be fun_, he promised himself silently before settling down to work.

* * *

_So there you have it, the hope of a sequel. _

_I say hope because I have no real idea of what I'm going to do with it (except for a few vague flashes in my head) - any ideas you guys might have are welcome. I can't say if I will do it exactly how you ask, but any inspiring notes are appreciated! _

_This whole story was actually supposed to be a one shot...but it mutated so...lol_

_Also the more people interested the faster I'll probably get started. Right now I'm kind of overly stressed - but in a twisted happy way. I finally have a few photo jobs and they all got piled up to the next few days. So send me some good karma, prayer or positive vibes! (whatever you feel like giving ^^) I'm going to need it! _

_Thanks for your support throughout this story and any final reviews would be very much appreciated! I love my readers! Miss you guys already! _

_- Berry_


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